Chapter 3 #2
Nate’s eyes fall to the ground, cheeks turning the slightest shade of pink despite the darkness that engulfs us. “Not exactly, but if that story will help me get the girl, I’m all for it.”
“Unbelievable.” I shake my head in disbelief, never mind the smile that’s found a permanent place on my face. The man is a sweet talker, and I’m loving every bit of it. “Don’t tell me you do this with every woman you meet.”
Nate gives me a panty-dropping grin that oozes confidence. “Only the ones who catch my eye.”
I roll my eyes in amusement. “You’ll have to try again. I’ve heard that one before.”
Nate shrugs with a smile, and I take that opportunity to inspect him a little longer.
Green eyes.
Chiseled features.
Muscular arms.
The ribbon that binds my thoughts unravels, and the memories of earlier today come crashing back. Navy-blue suit. Red-soled loafers. Stubble. Any spark I may have felt for the man before me is smothered with a sharp hiss.
“You’re the guy who soaked my notebook with coffee earlier this morning!”
It’s an accusation, not a question, because I don’t need the confirmation. I know exactly who this man is, and the shock on his face suggests he recognizes me too.
Nate raises his hands in defense, while I step forward, shoving an accusatory finger in his chest.
“I swear on my spark-induced plane that I’m not the one who spilled—”
A high-pitched squawk erupts from across the garden. My head snaps in the direction of the monster-like sound, shock fusing every bone in my body as I make out what it is.
A goose.
A goddamn goose.
Its beak is wide open, and its beaded, angry eyes stare right at me.
The creature takes a step forward, and I recoil as another one of its ear-deafening screams erupts from its not-so-little body.
My back slams against Nate’s chest in the process, but I couldn’t care less about the proximity to my enemy. The goose is supersized, and there’s a 110 percent chance it’ll knock me over. Especially when this she-devil has no intention of backing down.
“Be careful, Vivienne.” Nate clutches my forearm, steadying me as I tremble in my heels.
“Go away!” I kick my foot in her direction when she takes another menacing step toward me.
I shouldn’t assume its gender, but with the energy she’s exuding, I know she’s a diva.
Diva Goose, as I’ll officially be calling her.
The grip on me tightens. “I know your first instinct is to shoo it away, but I wouldn’t mess with it, Vivienne. Those things are vicious.”
I turn over my shoulder to glare at Nate, then jab my elbow in his stomach.
Advice from someone who can’t utter a simple apology is a no-go, especially when this goose isn’t retreating.
“I said, go away.” I wiggle my foot in the bird’s direction, harder this time. And the next thing I know, my red pump projectiles through the air, landing with a thump on its feathered back.
Her beaded eyes go red while mine widen in shock.
Diva Goose must not be happy with the outcome of our altercation, as her tiny, webbed feet start charging toward me.
One foot in front of the other, like some sort of Victoria’s Secret model, but faster, and the wings actually work.
And in time, there’s no scream, no hiss, just one goose flying in my direction, and inches away from hitting my face.
Both hands shoot up to protect myself as my legs shake violently. Maybe it’s from the heels, or perhaps from my impromptu workout this morning—but none of that matters when she flies over us, and I’m washed with relief.
Well, that’s until we tumble. Hard. Large, chaotic waves splash around us as we fall into the very fountain I loved so much, soaking us from head to toe.
I break the surface of the water, gasping for air before falling onto my elbows. Nate quickly follows with a loud, “Fuck,” as he stands, his white button-up now see-through.
Don’t admire the enemy. Don’t admire the enemy.
I try repeating the mantra to myself, but it’s a little too late for that as my eyes shamelessly roam his figure. Every contour of his muscular body is visible—from his wide shoulders to his abs and strong pecs. I can’t stop the spike in my heart rate that ensues. He’s practically made of stone.
Another screech captures my attention. I throw my head back in defeat, looking off to the side to see the culprit who got us in this mess flying off.
First, a hit-and-run, and now a hit and fly. “This day could not get any worse.” Nate takes the words right out of my mouth.
“Let me help you up.” His voice drags my attention back to him as he holds his hand out like some sort of peace offering.
Pride. I have too much damn pride to accept the help when I’m the reason we’re in this mess.
I let out my answer on a sigh. “Thank you for the offer, but I can get up by myself.”
Nate shakes his hand in urgency. “I’m not taking no for an answer. Let’s put this all behind us. The coffee, the fountain. No grudges.”
I nibble on my bottom lip as I contemplate the offer. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to forget what went down between us, but I place my hand in his nonetheless.
With a tug, I’m pulled out of the water. Quickly. Blood rushes to my head from the action, and I feel dizzy as my vision pebbles black. My knees grow weak, unable to keep me upright. I brace myself for impact, expecting to hit stone, but the fall never comes.
A strong arm wraps around my waist, while an equally large hand grasps onto the back of my head, stopping me from turning to mush.
“Are you okay?” Nate’s green eyes scan my face, the worry they hold obvious as I gain back consciousness.
I nod, stepping back to disentangle myself from him, only for his grip to follow me.
“I swear I’m fine.” I smile slightly, brushing the wet strands of hair out of my face.
He gives me the space I need, stepping out of the fountain before holding his hand out for me to follow suit.
With reluctance, I allow his help.
I make it out safely, holding on just long enough to slip off one soaking-wet pump. Rock pebbles dig into my feet as I walk to the bench where my phone lies.
Seven missed calls and ten texts from Sutton.
An hour has passed at most, but from her most recent text mentioning “the clusterfuck of a showcase that was,” it doesn’t seem the event went as planned. Something about a spark and a CEO who walked off stage in the thick of it all.
“Here you go.”
I look up to find Nate holding out my other shoe, a goose feather stuck to the red velvet.
The action tugs at my heartstrings. He may have very well sabotaged me earlier today, but after everything I put him through, you’d think he’d have that same animosity directed toward me.
Apparently not. He’s still got the decency to watch out for me.
My gaze draws up to his tired green eyes as I retrieve the shoe. Our fingers brush against each other as I do so, a jolt of electricity running up my nerves at the contact.
In the movies, this would be the kind of thing that bonds two people together. And while that’s the last thing I would want, my gut tells me our paths will cross again.
One way or another.